Prophecy Twisting
by Unintelligible Me
Summary: Brought over from my other account. Dumbledore's at his meddling again. Twisting the meaning of the prophecy, can Harry really befriend Voldemort, and bring out Tom Riddle? Teaching the Dark Lord how to love, destroying Lord Voldemort once and for all.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I got this idea a couple hours ago, aaand I decided to write it out. That never works out well for me. Anyways, I can't guarantee I'll stick with this story once I lose ideas, but until then, I'll try to update as often as possible. Now, this will possibly be slash, if I ever make it that far, but for now, let's just have a look, shall we?**

**Don't own anything, yadda yadda, if i owned the series, it wouldn't be FANfiction, now would it?**

**Note: This is a repost! Just switched fanfiction accounts, so I've got the first three chapters up, and the fourth will be up asap!**

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><p>"You're bloody joking me, aren't you, Professor?"<p>

Incredulous green eyes met surprisingly serious blues that surveyed him over half-moon spectacles.

"No, I am not, my dear boy. I wish I was. I am well aware that this is a terrible thing to ask of you, but it must be you. I have taken into consideration how difficult it would be for you to do, considering your feelings. If there was any way to avoid this, I wouldn't dream of putting you through this" Dumbledore sat back in his chair, looking at the shocked teenager sitting on the other side of his desk.

"But-"

"No buts, Harry. It must be done. Everything is prepared. All that is left is for you to explain this to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. I am quite sure they would like to know what is to happen to you."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his unruly black hair, causing it to stand on end, much like his father used to do.

"Alright then, I'll talk to Ron and Hermione about it. I doubt they'll be pleased, but maybe they can give me some pointers on this. I really have no idea how this is supposed to work out" Harry said with a sigh, rising to his feet rather reluctantly. He had gotten used to the old man springing ridiculous plots on him in the middle of the night, though this one turned his stomach. He had no idea what to do with himself. Dumbledore smiled, looking pleased that the boy hadn't put up much of a fight. It seemed that Harry Potter had accepted his role as a pawn, whether he knew it or not.

Getting to his feet as well, Dumbledore walked around his desk, looking down at the rather short teen. "I know this is a lot to put on your shoulders at sixteen, but if I trust anybody can do this, it will be you Harry. Now, go see Professor Snape to acquire the potion, and then Hagrid will escort you past the anti-apparation wards. He wanted to see you off" the old man's eyes twinkled down at Harry, who nodded mutely.

"Thank you Professor. I'll d my best."

"Good luck, Harry." With that, Harry turned to leave the room, heading down the spiral staircase and past the phoenix statue rather slowly. His feet felt like lead as he dragged himself up to Gryffindor tower. His mind was nearly blank, the Headmaster's words echoing through his head. It took him much longer than usual to get to the Fat Lady's portrait, and he muttered the password robotically. Stepping through the portrait hole, he was almost instantly knocked backwards, arms thrown around him.

"Harry! Ron and I were so worried!" Hermione let go, taking a step back, to stand beside Ron. "All we heard was that Dumbledore wanted to see you and you were gone for so long and- Harry? What's wrong? You look dreadful. . ."

Heaving a sigh, Harry walked past his two best friends, seating himself on one of the plush couches that adorned the Gryffindor common room.

"That old man's up to his tricks again, isn't he?" Ron asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch, as the last of the trio settled into a comfy arm chair by the fire.

"Ron-" Hermione said in protest, sending him a chastising look.

"No, he's right" Harry took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair once again. It was a bad habit he had picked up, after spending too much time with Sirius, and seeing his father do it in Snape's memories. "He found a way to get around the prophecy," he started, his best friends listening, riveted. "'_ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ...'" _The raven haired teen stared into the fireplace as he recited the prophecy he had heard so many times now, replayed in his head, or repeated from Dumbledore. "Dumbledore thinks, that it doesn't have to go the way everybody's been so positive about. Underneath Voldemort," Ron winced at the name, "is Tom Riddle. Either I have to die, or Voldemort does, and we have to be the ones to kill each other. So, Dumbledore is having me disguise myself with polyjuice potion, get recruited as a Death Eater, brought to Voldemort by Snape after I spend some time 'lost' in a forest, get close to Voldemort, and bring back his emotions. I'm supposed to get Lord Voldemort to _love_. And doing that, hopefully destroy Voldemort, and Tom Riddle will survive. Then, the prophecy is fulfilled, and the war is over. Because Tom Riddle, isn't the Dark Lord."

Minutes went by, silence filling the room. Harry's voice had been monotone through this whole revelation, but his eyes showed the utter fear and confusion he felt, laced with rage that Dumbledore was going to put him through this.

"Oh Harry. . ." Hermione's voice broke through the silence.

"I can't believe he's doing this to you! Sending you to your death! Tom Riddle was as much of a monster as You-Know-Who is! I mean, just look what he did to Ginny!" Ron exploded, shocked, and concerned for his best friend.

"He wasn't a monster. Just misled. And Dumbledore wants me to get him back on track." Green eyes looked up from the fire finally, looking to Ron, and then Hermione. "He says that my 'innocence and purity' will solve everything" Harry's tone was skeptical, but Hermione bit her lip.

"Actually Harry. . ." she began hesitantly, thinking well as she spoke slowly, "That might be exactly right. He just needs to learn love, and guilt, and what's right. And you're the essence of all of those things."

Ron looked to the brunette girl, thinking it over as well. "Bloody hell Hermione, I think you're right. As much as I'm scared for you Harry, you can do this. If anyone can, it's you. Just, be careful, okay? You're my best mate. . . and mum will never forgive me if she finds out I let you walk off to your death" he grinned slightly at the end, provoking a smile from Harry as well.

"Yeah. . . I guess it'll work out, somehow. . . But I've got to go see Snape. I'm to apparate to some forest that Hagrid'll tell me about, and then Snape will 'find' me. I don't know how long I'll be gone, or if I'll come back. . . but I'll try my best" Harry's voice was grim, and his face determined. His emerald green eyes still reflected his inner turmoil. Getting to his feet, he pulled out his wand. "_Accio invisibility cloak!_" he pointed his wand to the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories, and a lumpy, folded shape flew to its master. Catching the cloak, the teenager turned to his friends, who now stood facing him. Biting his lip, Harry looked his two longest friends over, wanting to remember what they looked like. "I'm going to miss you guys" his voice was almost a whisper, and soon enough, he was in Hermione's embrace.

"Oh Harry, we'll miss you too! Be safe, please! I know you've improved at occlumency, but do be careful!" By the time she released him, her eyes were full of tears, though she blinked them back. Harry looked to Ron now, who stepped forward and wrapped the shorter teen in a bear hug.

"What she said. Hermione's always been better with words. But, you know we're always with you mate. Be careful" Ron said, letting go of his best friend and stepping back.

"Thanks guys. Really. Try to stay out of trouble okay?" he sent them a crooked grin as he headed towards the entrance to Gryffindor tower. He stood in front of it before turning to his friends one last time. He pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket, handing it to Ron. "I won't need it where I'm going. For now, my mischief has been managed. Goodbye, you two" Harry tried to keep his voice from wavering, giving them a last smile before he pushed open the painting of the fat lady.

Pulling the invisibility cloak over his body, he felt safer under there, even if he had permission to be wandering the halls at night. He savored every last bit of Hogwarts as he walked through, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he got to see his home. The only true home he had.

Wandering the castle at night was always a fond past time of Harry's, when he found he couldn't sleep, so being alone in the stone corridors was a rather nostalgic feeling, knowing he wouldn't be doing this again for some time.

When Harry finally made it down to the potions' classroom, he found the door partially open, with torchlight streaming from the crack in the door. Pulling off the cloak, he pushed the door open the rest of the way, finding Professor Snape sitting at his desk, looking impatient.

"Really Potter, you had to take two hours to get down here? I do have things to do, other than helping you befriend the Dark Lord." Snape bit out, rising to his feet. "I hope you've said your goodbyes, for I am probably helping you to your death. Not that I mind." Harry sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He had no idea why Snape hated him so much, but the feeling was mutual, and he knew that they both hated that they had to work together. "Now, here is the polyjuice potion," the bat-like man's arm swept over three large flasks of the sickly liquid, which Harry knew from experience, was utterly disgusting. "Take one mouthful every two hours, and you will go through one a day. I shall fill up the flasks as they are emptied, to be sure you shall never run out. I'm sure the Headmaster has told you what you are to do, so get going, Potter. I'll see you in a few hours."

Snape turned on his heel and disappeared through the door behind his desk, leaving Harry with the potions. He took the three flasks, slipping them into a small pouch that attached to his belt, which had a charm on it, making it so much larger on the inside. Dumbledore had given it to him about a week ago and explained the bag, which worked like the tent they had used at the Quiddich World Cup. The old man had told him that he would know what it was for in time, and now he knew. It was to hide the potions from Voldemort. He stuffed his invisibility cloak into the little pouch after the flasks before leaving the classroom; having a feeling he would miss even this dreadful room. The stone floor of the dungeon echoed dully with his footsteps, and Harry sighed. The corridors seemed to be mocking the loneliness he would soon be feeling, 'befriending' Voldemort or not. He would be living in a cottage in the forest he would apparate to (having gotten his apparation license prematurely, due to this secret mission of his), though probably spending most of his time with his arch nemesis. Even spending his time with Voldemort would make him feel alone, and he knew that. He always felt so alone and helpless when Voldemort was around. But that was him as Harry Potter. With polyjuice potion, he would become a twenty three year old pureblood wizard by the name of Holden Parker, no real job, but graduated Hogwarts with decent grades, having been in Slytherin, of course. This was all carefully constructed by Dumbledore. His initials were still the same, but the name different enough to seem genuine, and the rest set up to make him favorable.

Harry pondered all this as he headed across the entrance hall, looking up at the giant hourglasses that held the house points. He smiled slightly at the overload of points Gryffindor had at the moment. Harry had received four hundred points for what he was about to do. He took a deep breath, pushing open the huge doors, conveniently unlocked, to find Hagrid standing almost right outside. He looked like he had been crying, and Harry felt bad for that. He had no idea how many tears would be shed in his absence. He didn't have all that many friends, but the ones he did have did care for him.

"Harry! I'm so sorry yeh have ter go through this!" Hagrid almost sobbed, and a moment later the ebony haired boy had his arms full of weeping half-giant. Blinking slightly, Harry patted his friend on the side, as he couldn't quite reach his back.

"It's alright Hagrid. I'll be fine. I do have a certain amount of luck, don't I? I'll be back in no time, safe and sound" the bespectacled boy smiled up at the Groundskeeper, who looked at him through watery eyes.

"I know yeh will Harry. Yeh always do. I jus' don't want yeh gettin' hurt or nothin'" Hagrid nodded, straightening up. "Now, let's get goin'. You've got places to be, Harry. I s'pose Dumbledore's told yeh where yer heading?"

Harry nodded, hurrying to keep up with the large man's long strides. "Yeah. He's told me everything I need to know. But it'll take me time and patience, not to mention being very careful, to pull through. But as long as I've got support from all of you here, I think I'll be okay" he smiled, looking up at Hagrid. His words were mainly to console the half-giant, knowing how attached his friend was to him, after bringing him to live with his aunt and uncle at number four Privet Drive when he was a baby.

Hagrid hummed thoughtfully, and the rest of the walk was spent in silence. When they reached the end of the grounds, Harry turned to look at the looming mass of Hogwarts Castle. He knew how dearly he would miss this place, and all of the people inside of it. Even Draco Malfoy. Taking a deep breath, the teen looked up at Hagrid, who was regarding him silently. "Well, I guess this is it then" Harry said after a moment. "This is goodbye. For now. I'll miss you, Hagrid. Look after Hedwig for me, will you?"

"'Course, Harry, 'course. Anything to help you. Now, you jus' keep yerself safe, and you'll get this job done in no time. Jus' be careful out there Harry. He's a monster." One last hug, and a longing glance at the castle, and Harry turned on his heel, leaving behind a half-giant howling with sobs, disapparating with a loud 'crack'.

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><p><strong>Well, that's it for now. If you enjoyed it, awesome! If not, sucks bro! I would love some constructive criticism, I don't expect this to be perfect, seeing as it's currently 3:45 am and I just finished writing. Anyways, I'd love some reviews, just to know what people are thinking. If you're lazy like me, I don't mind, you don't have to review. I'm clearly unable to force you. Well, until next time! Peace. <strong>

**Note: the bag is like the one Hermione uses in Deathly Hallows, buut seeing as that hasn't happened yet, I just compared it to the tent.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wellllll, here's the second chapter. Kindof shocked I got three favourites, but hey, I'm not complaining. Anyways, I don't even think most people read these things, so I'll shut up now. **

**Don't own shit.**

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><p>Luminous green eyes surveyed his surroundings. Harry knew he was close to where Voldemort's new headquarters was, and he quickly pulled out one of the flasks of polyjuice potion. He had been told by Dumbledore previously that it was fully prepared and would always be that way, with hairs from a muggle that lived somewhere in London. Choking a mouthful of the foul liquid down, Harry put the flask away and looked down at his hands, watching them transform, growing longer, and stronger.<p>

By the time his transformation was done, Harry was quite a bit taller, standing at 5'11 now, and his hair had grown out slightly. It was still black, but it fell about his face in smooth waves. His striking green eyes were now a bright blue, and his cheekbones were more defined, along with his jaw. Gone was the boyish roundness in his cheeks, and the telltale lightning bolt scar. Harry had no idea how he really looked, not having a mirror, but he was told the gist of it by the Headmaster. He looked enough like himself to not feel uncomfortable, but the differences were enough to have people know that he was somebody completely unfamiliar.

"Well, this is it then" Harry sighed, speaking his thoughts out loud purely for the sake of his loneliness, which was already creeping in, as he looked about the unfamiliar, dark trees. Being so close to where his nemesis was, and being here all alone without a proper story worked up was rather worrisome. What happened if a Death Eater on patrol or something found him before Snape did? He wouldn't know what to say . . . and that could be very disastrous indeed. The dark haired teen turned his head up to look at the sky, finding the moon rather fuzzy around the edges, he was confused as to why this was for a moment, before he realized he no longer needed glasses. Pulling the spectacles off, there was an instant clearness to his vision, and he smiled, knowing he could get used to this at least. He slipped his circular glasses carefully into the pouch at his waist, making sure they were in there securely before closing the pouch, running a hand through the unfamiliar hair on his head.

A twig snapped somewhere in the bushes to Harry's left, and he was soon facing the spot, wand in hand, peering into the darkness.

"Relax, Potter; it's just me" came the bored voice of Severus Snape. Harry visibly relaxed, tucking his wand inside of his robes. Snape looked over the teen skeptically, sighing. "You need a serious change in wardrobe" he decided, pulling out his own wand.

Harry looked down at his robes, opening his mouth to protest, when he realized how right his Professor was. For one, he was wearing Gryffindor robes. They were also several inches too short, now that he had taken the potion. "I guess you're right. I didn't exactly think that far ahead" Harry admitted a bit sheepishly.

"Clearly" Snape muttered, holding back an eye roll. He waved his wand once, and the robes changed, sizing themselves to fit him better than his school robes had in the first place, and the red trim and Gryffindor crest disappeared. He tucked his wand away, done with any magic he would need for the time being.

The robes were now plain black, like all Death Eaters' robes, but they were elegantly fitted, and all in all Harry looked rather sophisticated and handsome, not that Snape would ever tell the boy that. He applauded Dumbledore's choice in appearance. It was neat and attractive enough to seem worth his time, but ordinary enough to not seem surreal, or untrustworthy. Harry examined his new wardrobe, nodding his approval.

"Thank you, Professor" Harry said politely, trying to show at least some amity towards the man, though they both knew of their hate for each other.

"I do believe you should not be calling me that anymore. Call me Severus, and at least try to seem like we are . . . friends" his lip curled slightly, and his voice showed his disdain for the word very clearly. He was sure Albus was trying to bring them closer together by adding that to their whole story. Friends for many years, 'Holden' begging him to get an audience with the Dark Lord. He had no desire to even pretend to be friends with the Potter brat, but he would do so, and do his best to keep the boy safe.

"Yes Pr-" Harry caught himself, biting back a sigh, "Severus. I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Now come along, we're not far now, and the Dark Lord is expecting us" The tall man turned and started off in what seemed like a random direction to Harry, but he had no doubt Snape knew where he was going. Being a spy for the Order, he was probably in this area rather often.

The farther they walked, the more Harry's insides twisted in fear. What if he betrayed himself somehow, and alerted everybody to whom he was? All it would take was one simple slip, and it would be game over. What if Voldemort just knew? He often saw into the man's mind when he was angry, and he knew it could work both ways, despite his occlumency, due to the bonds they unfortunately shared. If Voldemort got angry while Harry was there, and he showed that his scar was paining him, by clapping a hand over the currently invisible mark, he would easily be found out. And what if he forgot to take his polyjuice potion? That would prove to be the worst, he feared. Or if veritaserum was used on him? There were so many things that could go wrong.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts when they broke into a clearing. They were at the bottom of a hill, and at the top, was a rather large manor, that he knew held at least five people who wanted to kill him, he would guess. He didn't know how many people were always there, but five seemed a fair guess. His fear was skyrocketing, but he shoved it down, composing himself. He had been through so much in his years at Hogwarts. And these people wouldn't even know who he was, and would accept him as one of their own. After fighting Voldemort three times, plus surviving the killing curse in the first place, he knew he should not be scared.

"You'll be fine, Potter" Snape said, seeming to notice how he was feeling. "Lying and corrupting comes easily to you. It's genetic." Harry's eyes snapped up to his Potions Professor.

"It is not genetic! My father was not a liar!" Harry protested angrily, glaring at the older wizard.

"You didn't even know the man. How would you know?" Snape asked, a light sneer to his voice. He knew the boy would be mad now, but it served its purpose. Harry was no longer dwelling on being afraid.

"Shut up about my father! I don't care if you didn't like him, just shut, up!" Harry hissed, having gone through enough of Snape degrading his father in the past six years. The hissed words however, deterred Snape's thoughts of distracting the boy.

"Parseltongue. You shall not speak it, or show in any way that you understand" he said suddenly, causing Harry to pause for a moment.

"What? I can't- oh. I'm not supposed to be able to speak Parseltongue" the teen concluded easily, biting his lip. He would have to be careful around Nagini then.

"No witch or wizard at the current time other than the Dark Lord and yourself are Parselmouths. If you so much as look at the Dark Lord understandingly as he speaks to his snake, or slip into it by accident as he does, it will be the end. That would be your death, Potter, and I do hope you have enough brains to avoid that" Snape bit out, having seen how naturally Harry slipped into the snake language without even noticing it. "Now, _Holden_, it is time to meet the Dark Lord."

They had come to a wrought iron gate set into an ivy-covered fence that surrounded the perimeter of the manor. Snape pressed his hand against a flat iron square in the middle of the gate, waiting for entrance. It worked something like a doorbell, and nobody inside the gate could be seen until the gate was opened. The two waited in tense silence for about a minute before the gate was opened hurriedly, revealing a twitchy man, short and squat, seeming more akin to a rat than the wizards at the gate. Harry clenched his fist around his wand, wanting nothing more than to whip it out and curse Peter Pettigrew to oblivion. He bit his anger back though. He wasn't even supposed to know who this man was.

"Pettigrew. This is the man who has come to join the Dark Lord's ranks. Holden Parker. I suggest you treat him with respect" Snape said rather coldly, glaring down at the man who had betrayed Lily and James Potter.

"O-of course, Severus! I wouldn't dream of treating him any differently!" the man said hurriedly, and Snape pushed past him, Harry in tow, giving a quick nod of acknowledgement to the wizard, hoping his face seemed impassive enough. Acting was going to be hard.

Twisting hallways, elegantly decorated in Slytherin colours, and lit by torch. The manor was quite nice inside, and nothing like what Harry had expected. It seemed like a very normal place. Harry had expected cold stone walls and floors, dirt, and no light but the moon through the windows. It was a home however, and Voldemort seemed to have it decorated to seem like the first home he had had. Harry couldn't help but think that this was a small sign that his humanity already existed. It was just buried deep. Either way, Harry couldn't help but think this task wouldn't be as hard as he might have thought. He did tend to have a certain influence on people. The only ones he knew that outright didn't like him were Voldemort, the Death Eaters, including Snape, and Draco Malfoy. The first two because of a stupid prophecy, the third because of a grudge against his father, and the last because he had hurt the Malfoy heir's ego when they were eleven. It couldn't be too hard to get Voldemort to like him, and then he would work his way in, and pull Tom Riddle out.

It seemed like an eternity, walking to his probable death, but finally, Snape led him into a large room with a long table, chairs pushed haphazardly against the sides of it, and a large throne sat at one end, Lord Voldemort seated in it with a large snake draped across his lap in coils.

"Ah, Severus, I see you have brought your friend to me" Voldemort's voice was soft, just as it was in Harry's nightmares, with a hissing lilt to the words. He stood, carefully allowing Nagini to slide to the floor unharmed.

"Yes, my lord. He has been showing interest in joining your ranks for some time now, and I believe he would be a valuable asset" Snape said, falling to one knee in front of his master, Harry doing the same. He tried to tame his fear, knowing that there was no way for Voldemort to tell it was him, hopefully. He saw Snape rise to his feet and back up, standing next to Pettigrew, but Harry remained where he was.

Voldemort curled his hand into the black hair before him, jerking the man's head up to examine his face, which Harry kept composed, though allowing a certain amount of the pain of his hair being pulled to slip through his mask, hoping to look like he wasn't trying to hold something back.

"What is your name?" the Dark Lord asked, eyes boring into Harry's newly turned blue ones.

"Holden Parker, my Lord" he replied in the smooth voice of the muggle he had taken the appearance of.

"Parker. . . I have never heard that name before, although Severus has told me of your blood status, and your achievements." Harry bit back a sigh of relief, continuing to meet those crimson eyes unwillingly. "I also hear that you have no home. There is a small cabin in the forest, a very short distance from here. You may live there, until you have gained my full trust."

Harry nodded slightly, and Voldemort let go of his hair, turning to resume sitting where he was. This was all going according to the plan, so far. Snape had told Dumbledore of that little cabin, and they had easily come to the conclusion that 'Holden' would be told to stay there.

"There is a mandatory Death Eater meeting tonight. I expect you to be here at eight o'clock. Do not be late, or the consequences will be dire. And you shall stay behind after the meeting. I wish to . . . get to know you. Now, Severus, show your friend to his new home." And with that, they were dismissed. Harry knew, that after the meeting today, would be the true beginning of his mission. Gaining Voldemort's trust, and getting to know him. Getting to be his friend. Teaching him how to have emotions.

"Yes, my Lord. Of course" Snape said with a nod, motioning Harry to come with him. The disguised teen rose to his feet and silently followed, sensing that his conversation with Voldemort was over, with no 'goodbyes' necessary. He knew as they ended up getting to know each other, it would be easier to really address him, as now Harry was tense and unsure, trying so hard not to say anything wrong. Hurrying after his Professor, the teen cast a last glance back at the Dark Lord, who was hissing to his snake softly, so that Harry could not make out the words. They didn't speak until they were out the gate, and Harry let out a relieved sigh, glad to be out of that place.

"You did well, Potter. I expected you to panic, in direct contact with the Dark Lord." Harry was shocked slightly at the compliment, but Snape quickly brought his attention to business once again. "Now, there is no telling whether the Dark Lord will send somebody to check on you as you sleep, so you must take an extra dose of the polyjuice potion before you go to bed. Three times what you normally do should do it" the Potions Master explained, not looking at Harry as they walked, leading him to where his new 'home' would be. He knew Potter would never view it as home though. As much as he disliked the child most of the time, he did understand that Hogwarts was his first and only home.

Harry nodded his understanding to the instructions, not liking the idea of being watched in his sleep, but he knew it would stop when Voldemort came to trust him completely. They soon reached a clearing in the forest that contained a one story, three room house. It was tiny, but then again, he had grown up living in a cupboard. It was rather nice to have a little house of his own, even if it was tiny.

"It's not locked, and it has everything you shall need inside. A house elf can be summoned from the manor for meals, or anything you might need. I shall see you tonight, and you had better not be late" Snape ground out the last bit, giving the teen a glare, before turning on his heel, disapparating. Harry sighed once he was on his own, rolling his eyes.

"Slimy git . . ." he muttered to himself, walking up to the door and pulling it open. The house was relatively clean, and he assumed it was cleaned by a house elf regularly. There was a bathroom, a small sitting room, and a bedroom. It was more than enough for Harry, and he sank down onto the bed, which was a fair size, pressing a hand against his hidden scar. It had become habit, due to how often it had been hurting recently, and he made note not to do it in front of Voldemort.

Glancing at his watch, Harry realized that it was still early morning, and he hadn't gotten any sleep yet. Reluctantly pulling out a flask, he took three large gulps of polyjuice potion, cringing slightly as he did. Stuffing the flask back into his pouch, he stripped down to his boxers, which he was glad had been oversized before, as they now fit him much better. Slipping between the covers, Harry Potter fell asleep, exhausted by his night's work.

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><p><strong>So yeah. There you have it. I'm just getting the feel for the story here, and working things out, so it may be a bit short and sketchy until I get it all figured out. Forgive me. I do try. I expected to have this up early this morning, buuut I ended up procrastonating, so it's up now. ^-^" I'll try to make the next chapter longer, and more. . . exciting? God knows what'll happen at a Death Eater meeting. Anyways, peace for now!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't you just hate it when Microsoft Word tries to tell you that every other word you write is spelled wrong? And according to it, every other sentence of mine is a fragmented sentence. Clearly, I don't care. I think it should keep it's squiggly lines to itself and shut up. But anyways, this chapter is almost double what the other two are, soo you'd better all appreciate that. I've been busy, so I havn't had much time to write, but I hope I did alright here. **

**The only thing I own is like, an iPod, sooo yeah. . .**

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><p>A knock resounded from the front door of the little cabin, and Harry hurriedly answered, expecting to find the only person he could actually trust (against his own will), only to find Peter Pettigrew standing at his door, looking as nervous and twitchy as always. Harry glanced at his watch discreetly, sure that it was an hour or so before the meeting was supposed to start. Seeing Pettigrew here made him panic for a moment, thinking he might be late. He found however, that he had been correct in his assumption of the time, and he had plenty of time before he needed to be anywhere.<p>

"Yes?" he asked, trying to keep a cold drawl as his tone, as he had heard the most proud purebloods do countless times.

"The Dark Lord has changed the time of the meeting, and as you do not bear his mark, he cannot summon you" the rat-man spoke quickly, in that same nervous tone that pissed Harry off so much. He was well aware that he was openly glaring at the man, but he decided it would be normal enough for a Death Eater to glare at the unregistered Animagus.

"When does it start?" Harry tried to use a demanding tone, which wasn't one he ever had to use, unless he was doing something stupid and dangerous, spitting in the face of Death. Sure, he was doing something stupid and dangerous, but Pettigrew wasn't exactly someone to fear. Usually it was Voldemort he was using that tone with. Or Dumbledore, if the old man was withholding information from him again. Pettigrew flinched away from the tone though, so he supposed he had done well. This muggle seemed to have a good voice for things like that. Perhaps he was high up in a company? Harry pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the half cowering man in front of him.

"It starts in ten minutes. I shall escort you to the manor" he said, stepping back from the doorway. Harry simply gave a nod, turning to grab his wand off of the bedside table, taking a quick swig of polyjuice potion while he was out of sight, stuffing the flask away quickly and leaving the house. He closed the door behind him, and set off after Peter, who was already scurrying off in the direction of Voldemort's headquarters. The gate was answered this time by an unfamiliar Death Eater, since Peter was here with him, and the three of them made their way to the meeting room, where a few Death Eaters were milling around. The meeting had yet to start, and it was clear that not everybody had arrived yet.

"Ah, Wormtail, thank you, for retrieving our newest recruit" came the soft hissing tone of Lord Voldemort, when his crimson eyes landed on the pair. Harry hated thinking of Peter Pettigrew as 'Wormtail', as it reminded him even more of how he had betrayed his parents. He wasn't worthy of his old nickname.

Pettigrew bowed several times to his master, backing up to the wall, his hands pressed together, glowing white to filthy flesh.

Harry couldn't help his look of contempt as he looked at the man, before realizing that bright crimson eyes were still trained on him. He lowered his head respectfully to the Dark Lord, as he had seen people do many times in his dreams, giving the man a slight smirk, noting the rather amused look on the snake like man. Harry was well aware that he only kept Pettigrew around to be a slave, because the man was too afraid not to do as he was told, making him loyal through fear.

He watched as Voldemort's non-existent eyebrows rose slightly at the smirk, and Harry was sure he was wondering who had the nerve to smirk at the Dark Lord, especially when new to his presence. The dark haired teen had seen even Voldemort's most loyal and trusted followers flinching and cowering from him, constantly. Harry simply bowed his head respectfully, and wandered over to Snape, who was standing on his own off to the side of the room. He was thankful that he had somebody he could at least feel comfortable around, even if he didn't particularly like this Professor of his, but at least he wasn't alone.

As the room continued to fill up, Harry became more and more uncomfortable, being around so many familiar people, all who were out for his blood. He recognized Lucius Malfoy instantly, as well as Bellatrix Lestrange, Dolohov, and the elder Crabbe and Goyle. They all irked him, being there, but it was particularly hard not to whip out his wand and attack Bellatrix. He tried to keep his eyes away from her as much as possible, suppressing his rage, and the pain of the thought of Sirius, murdered by his own cousin.

Being the newcomer to the Dark Lord's forces, Harry was attracting too much attention to feel comfortable. Even though he knew he didn't look like himself, he felt as if every time somebody looked at him, they would see straight through the polyjuice potion. After what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes, people began to take their seats, and Harry found himself between Snape, and the witch he wanted to throttle. Sitting beside Bellatrix made him ten times more uncomfortable than he would have felt with anybody else. Sure, the witch chose to ignore him, but Harry felt very vulnerable.

Snape offered no comfort to the boy, even though his presence was comforting enough, as much as the teen hated to admit it. The meeting started, much to Harry's surprise, not with Voldemort saying anything, but Death Eaters who were apparently spies offering up what information they had obtained since they had last seen their lord. Harry listened intently, very curious as to what these people knew. He briefly thought back to the many nights he had lain awake, wishing he knew what Lord Voldemort was plotting, and now here he was, attending a meeting of Death Eaters. Right under their noses. He took a moment to feel smug, before tuning back into what Lucius was saying.

"Draco has informed me that his task is coming together. Currently, the cabinet leaves a part of whatever is being transported behind, somewhat like splinching. He believes he can fix it, and it will not be long before he completely fixes it" the blonde man said, and Harry was instantly suspicious. What was Draco up to? Did Snape know? He had to, being a Death Eater and all . . . It was probably something very dangerous, and the teen wished he could somehow contact Dumbledore, and warn him. Even if Snape had told the Headmaster something, he would feel better telling the old man himself. Especially as he still didn't quite trust Snape.

"Very good, Lucius. I do hope, for your sake, that young Draco does not have to suffer any of the . . . consequences, of failing" the Dark Lord was speaking again, and Harry held back a shudder. Enemy or not, he didn't wish for Draco to have to endure the wrath of Lord Voldemort. Nobody deserved that, especially since the Malfoy heir was so young. The Death Eaters were all old enough to make their own decisions, but Harry had a feeling that the blonde had been forced into his service, or at least pressured by his father.

"Yes, my Lord" Lucius said quietly, bowing his head for a moment, his hair hiding his face from most of the people in the room, though at the angle the disguised teenager was at, he could see the flicker of fear across the aristocrat's face.

Voldemort got to his feet, and all eyes were instantly on him. "Now, as our meeting draws to a close, I wish to welcome the newest of our recruits. Holden Parker, please rise, my friend."

Harry froze at the softly spoken words, that seemed so loud in the silence. He kept his face carefully neutral as he rose, feeling Snape's eyes bore into the back of his head as he faced the Dark Lord. It felt like the thousandth time he had done so, except that the man didn't know who he was now. He wasn't Harry Potter, waiting for death, he was simply a new Death Eater, and the teen expected this to be a sort of . . . initiation. Eyes were on him now, and Harry felt very vulnerable.

"Wormtail! Bring me our prisoner." The command was short, but Pettigrew hurried away to do as his master said. Disappearing from the room, everybody waited in anticipating silence. Everybody was vaguely aware of what was going on, and Severus Snape was the one most worried in the room. He knew Harry would have trouble doing this, but being accepted into Voldemort's ranks, he was going to have to do this quickly, and without flinching. Death Eaters showed no mercy.

A moment later, Wormtail returned, dragging a magically bound person into the room, and by the looks of the torn and dirtied clothing, Harry knew instantly that it was a muggle. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, well aware of what was going to be asked of him.

"Now, as a little welcoming gift, I shall allow you to torture and kill this filthy muggle. Do so, and you will be welcomed into my army with open arms. Fail to do so, and you will be considered weak, and therefore killed, along with the scum you belong with" Voldemort said, giving the muggle man a hard kick in the ribs. The man whimpered, and it was clear that he could not cry out, most likely because of a silencing charm, or some form of magical gag.

Harry's chest tightened, and he bit the inside of his cheek, though he gave a firm nod.

"Of course, my Lord" he said with a slight bow, meeting those crimson eyes and giving a small smirk, trying to seem as if he appreciated this 'gift'. His stomach was churning, but he knew he had to do this. He couldn't put the stake of the Wizarding world on the life of one muggle, as much as he was repulsed to kill this person.

Chances were, this man had done nothing wrong. He probably had a wife, and maybe some children, a dog, parents, brothers, and sisters. And Harry was going to take his life. Knowing he couldn't delay this without seeming suspicious, he whipped out his wand, stepping away from the table and approaching the muggle, throwing him a disgusted sneer, as if his mere presence repulsed him. "_Crucio_" he hissed, putting all of his will behind the word. Bellatrix Lestrange's words echoed in his head, "_You have to mean it!_" And mean it Harry did. Not to harm this man, who was now writhing on the floor under Harry's curse, mouth open in a silent scream.

The Death Eaters in the room whooped and jeered as the muggle was held under the torture curse, all of them loving the pain they knew this filth was experiencing, all of them having been under the curse at some point in time.

Harry kept his eyes locked on the body of this man, sickened by the very thought of what he was doing. He formed his face into a look of twisted pleasure, forcing himself to laugh cruelly along with the people he now had to call his comrades. Finally lifting the curse, Harry regarded the man for a moment, who had tears leaking down his face, shaking on the stone floors.

"Pathetic, filthy creature" the disguised teen said, loud enough for the others to hear, lip curled in pure disgust. He was glad now for all the years he had to force his emotions so as not to worry his friends, able to mask his true feelings so easily. Taking a step closer to the muggle, Harry bit his tongue for a moment, raising his wand again.

He didn't want to do it.

He couldn't do it.

Harry Potter was not a killer.

Using the one curse that almost ended his own life, he hated to do it. But speaking those words so coldly, chin tilted up arrogantly, Harry Potter ended a man's life.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" The flash of green light hit the shaking muggle square in the chest, and the shaking stopped instantly, blank eyes staring at the ceiling. Lowering his wand, Harry bit back the urge to vomit, or cry. Or both.

"Well done, my friend. Wormtail, clean up this mess. Everybody is dismissed, except Mr. Parker, of course." At Voldemort's words, Death Eaters obediently got to their feet, exiting the room, Peter Pettigrew hurrying to dispose of the dead muggle. Harry himself just stood where he was, watching people leave with an uninterested look on his face, hiding the fact that his stomach was turning, and his mind reeling.

Voldemort was seated comfortably in his throne, and once the room was cleared, he motioned for Harry to take one of the seats closer to him, at the top of the table. Obediently, the teen drew one of the chairs back and seated himself in it, trying his best to get comfortable, trying to look as if he wasn't terrified. Being alone with the one man who wanted him dead more than anything else in the world. There was nobody to save him now.

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment, regarding the man in front of him silently.

"You do not fear me" he stated, his tone showing that he was mildly surprised with this, but he was sure of it.

"I do not fear death" Harry answered simply, hoping he would be able to convince Lord Voldemort to trust him. Voldemort seemed to consider this for a moment, looking at his new recruit levelly.

"Only fools do not fear death" the snake-like man said after a moment. The only other he knew that didn't fear death, as far as he knew, was Harry Potter. The boy was always facing him bravely, with a very determined look, as if he was not afraid of how badly every confrontation could go for him. It was definitely a Gryffindor thing.

Harry gave a slight chuckle, shaking his head. "Death is simply giving mercy. After death, there is nothing. No worries, no pain, nothing" he said smoothly, liking how easily these words were coming to him. They seemed to satisfy the Dark Lord, for he smirked, sitting back in his chair. He said nothing more on the subject however, simply changing the topic.

"Severus tells me you are a pureblood, but grew up with muggles. How did this come about?" he asked, looking mildly curious. From what Dumbledore had shown him, this was because of Tom Riddle's own childhood, and he couldn't help but thank Snape's story, whether it was his idea or Dumbledore's, for giving him some kind of. . . common ground with Lord Voldemort.

"My parents were killed when I was an infant." Harry started, trying to keep his speech formal, much as most purebloods did, as well as making up this story. "They were caught in the middle of a fight between your Death Eaters, and the Order of the Phoenix" he said, sneering at the name of the Order, making up this story as he went along. He thanked the Dursleys for this part of his acting, making things up to Aunt Marge, and the neighbours. "Dumbledore thought it would be best if I was placed in a muggle orphanage, and so that was where I spent my life, growing up." As he explained, he thought of the Dursleys, and the rage he felt that he had to spend so much of his life with them, letting it show on the features that were not his own.

Harry could almost feel Voldemort's curiosity through the bond they shared, like he could feel when the man's anger or glee was particularly strong. He figured it was because they were so near each other at the moment.

"Oh yes, Dumbledore would think putting a Pureblood child with filthy muggles would be a delightful idea" the Dark Lord said, looking rather distracted, caught up in his own thoughts, though his disgust was clear. "The old man should really give up. He really is losing his touch."

Harry felt a stab of regret with how this conversation was going, but he knew he was going to have to belittle the Headmaster to a great extent.

"Yes, the stupid old man really should just stop. He has never been particularly wise, or made very good decisions, and now he's sacrificing other people in a losing battle" Harry tried to keep as much contempt in his voice as possible, and he saw the Dark Lord smirk. "I would have joined your forces earlier, my Lord, if the meddling old fool hadn't been keeping an annoyingly close watch on me" he added, hoping it would make him seem so sincere. The end of that sentence even, had been taken straight out of Tom Riddle's own mouth, down in the Chamber of Secrets in Harry's second year.

"Unfortunately, I know all too well what that's like" Voldemort commented dryly, much to Harry's surprise. He hadn't expected a casual conversation with his arch nemesis to be so . . . normal. "Severus told me that you have been living on the run, trying to keep out of the old man's sight before coming to me. I am sure that way of living must have been . . . less than comfortable," he started, and Harry could almost sense a proposition coming, for which he was eager to hear, hoping it would help him in his task. "I sent you to that silly little cabin before I got to know you at all, or accepted you as a follower of mine, as I do not take kindly to strangers living in my house. Now, however, you are free to live here, if you wish."

Harry easily gave a confident nod, allowing a small smile to grace his features, which he hadn't done at all in the past day.

"I would greatly appreciate that, my Lord. Thank you" the disguised teen said, and his Lord simply just nodded.

"You will find that it is decorated in many ways like the Slytherin common room . . . you should feel right at home" Voldemort said with a glance around the room, expression almost wistful. Harry knew that Hogwarts was his first real home, much as it was his own, and he guessed the Dark Lord must miss it.

"That will be very refreshing. I miss living there. Hogwarts was my only real home . . ." Harry trailed off, not having to fake the emotion on his face, though he avoided looking at the man perched on his throne, who regarded him with interest once more.

Voldemort had no idea what to make of this man. He seemed like a very arrogant Pureblood like the Malfoys, yet at the same time, he seemed almost humble, and he reminded the man much of himself. It was odd, though he said nothing about it. His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a large snake, and he allowed a genuine smile at the reptile that approached him.

Harry was rather surprised when the Dark Lord smiled, finding the expression very odd on his snake-like face. He looked down as Nagini slid across the floor, towards her master.

"_Master, a new follower_?" the snake hissed curiously, and Harry kept his face carefully curious, hoping that Voldemort wouldn't notice that he could understand their conversation.

"_Yes, my pet. I sense great things from this one. He reminds me much of myself._"

"_Making friends, are we? Narcissist_" Harry could hear the teasing tone the snake used, and almost chuckled along, but caught himself before he let his mask slip. He was rather anxious at hearing that Voldemort thought they were alike, as he knew that he could be much like the older man, in many ways. If the Dark Lord made the connection that the only one really like him was Harry Potter, he was as good as done for. Yet another factor adding to the chances of him being discovered.

"_Yes, I am, quite._" Voldemort hissed in response to his snake, who simply hissed a laugh, slithering up to coil in her master's lap. The teen was rather surprised that he took the teasing like that from his snake, and he knew that the man wouldn't take it from anybody else. Not having wanted to interrupt, and sensing now that their conversation was over, Harry decided to speak again.

"That is truly a beautiful snake" he commented, and he heard light hissing laugher again from Nagini. Voldemort ran long white fingers over scaly coils, giving another small, uncharacteristic smile.

"She is indeed. But compliment her too much, and her head will be even bigger than it already is." Harry laughed at this, quite liking the laugh this muggle has. It was light and melodic, but he didn't stop to think much about that.

"I'll try not to then, my Lord" he nodded, currently blue eyes sweeping over the snake, well aware that the Dark Lord was watching him as he did this. Voldemort did not reply, and the two of them sat in silence for a moment, Harry feeling rather uncomfortable under the older man's scrutiny. It was like the man was seeing right through his clothing or something, the way he was looking at him, and it was highly unnerving.

"_Stop checking the boy out. You'll scare him off, Tom_" Nagini hissed, and the teen had to once again pretend he couldn't understand them, though he was shocked that the snake used Voldemort's given name that he so hated.

"_I was not 'checking him out'"_ Voldemort defended himself, but the way he said it made both others in the room feel as if he was trying to convince himself. "_Besides, he doesn't seem to scare easily. It really is fascinating. He has even smirked at me, several times._"

Harry simply raised an eyebrow, as if he was questioning what they were talking about. He was highly curious as to what his nemesis meant by his words, but he knew better than to dwell on that when he had more important things to think about. But then again, if Voldemort found him interesting, it would help him get to Tom Riddle. Hopefully.

"_Yes, well, be sure not to scare him off. I like him_" Nagini hissed one last time before slipping off her master's lap, leaving the room again. Voldemort sighed, shaking his head slightly. He looked up, meeting Harry's eyes again.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have business to attend to. I shall have Wormtail show you to your room. You have free roam of this house while you stay here, but if a door is locked, _leave it that way_" Voldemort's words turned low and threatening, and his newest Death Eater nodded his understanding.

"Of course. Thank you, my Lord" he replied politely, getting to his feet as the Dark Lord called his servant into the room, who came scurrying in almost immediately. Harry couldn't help but wonder where he was hiding, and if he just sat around and eavesdropped all day.

"Wormtail, show Mr. Parker to his rooms. Third on the left from the top of the stairs should do."

"Please, my Lord, just Holden" Harry said with a respectful bow of his head. A first name basis would be a good start. A slight smirk curled at Voldemort's lips, and he gave a slight nod.

"Very well then. Goodnight, _Holden_" he replied, putting emphasis on his use of his new recruit's first name.

"Goodnight, my Lord" Harry replied, turning to follow Pettigrew out of the room, letting out an inaudible sigh as he left the room, feeling his whole body relax out from under the gaze of Lord Voldemort. As he followed Peter up the stairs, he kept his face carefully neutral, not wanting the unregistered Animagus to suspect him, and come poking around. The minute he was left in the elegantly decorated room, with the door locked, Harry allowed his mask to slip, and the emotions and stress of the night washed over him. He was still numb from the idea that he had very recently tortured and killed an innocent man. This had in fact, shaken him to his core.

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><p><strong>Whew. Way too much work. I get to torment Harry though! Woo! That's always fun. Anyways, review are always appreciated, even if you have nothing nice to say.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, this took me longer than I would have hoped. And it's not as good as I'd hoped. Buuut whatever. I've been slacking. Just a bit. Bah, I hate having to write Harry as not Harry. I mean looks and name wise. It just bothers me, y'know? Anyways, hope you enjoy my attempt at a chapter. Woo. **

**Don't own Harry Potter, clearly. I wouldn't bother writing fanfiction if I was JKR. And I wouldn't suck at writing, clearly.**

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><p>"<em>You did this to me! How could you! My wife! My daughter! Left alone! It's all your bloody fault!" the man screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. The teen blinked in alarm, guilt washing over him.<em>

"_I'm sorry, I didn't have a choice!" Harry pleaded with the man, trying to make him see why he had done it. "If I hadn't, the whole Wizarding world would be doomed!"_

"_Damn the Wizarding world! And damn you! The whole lot of you should die, for what you did to me! I did nothing wrong! You foul excuse for a child! No wonder nobody loves you!" the man was shaking with rage now, pale face contorted with anger. He reached behind him, pulling out a long dagger, his eyes with a manic glint. "You'll pay for this . . . you'll pay!"_

_With that, the man started towards Harry, brandishing the long knife. The messy haired teen's eyes widened and he took a few steps back. _

"_No, I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault! No!" he tripped over something as he backed up. Looking down, he saw it was the staring corpse of the man above him, who now loomed over him. _

"_See what you've done to me, you monster!" he pointed at the body with a shaking finger as Harry tried to scramble away from it. _

"_No, no, please no . . ." The man brought the knife down quickly, Harry closed his eyes, he was going to die . . . _

Harry jerked awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, covers tangled around his legs. He was panting and sweaty, but he was used to this. Nightmares were part of his daily routine, but recently he had been plagued with dreams of the poor Muggle he killed. When he was in the dreams, he was always him, Harry, but he always awoke, finding himself in the still unfamiliar body.

Sighing, Harry flopped back onto his bed, feeling if possible, more tired than he had when he went to sleep. He had been in Voldemort's lair for a week now, and he was starting to get into a routine, getting to know how things worked. He didn't see Voldemort as often as he thought he would, as the man, if he could be called that, was always busy with what Harry called 'Dark Lord business'. If anything, he saw Nagini more often than her master.

Unfortunately, the person Harry saw most often was Snape. Sure, he was glad to have at least one person around that he knew he could count on, and would help him, but it didn't make him like the greasy haired Potions' master any more than he used to. He had gotten through all of the many hardships he had endured with other people around to help him, and now here he was, _living_ with Voldemort, with only Snape around to give him his Polyjuice potion. He was rather curious as to where Snape was getting all the hair from this Muggle, but he decided it was better not to ask. He probably didn't want to know the answer. Although it would be admittedly rather amusing for somebody to stumble across an unconscious Muggle tied up in Snape's office. It wouldn't surprise many people.

With a resigned sigh, Harry forced himself up, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He walked over to the wardrobe, which he had discovered was full of Death Eater robes, along with a mask for him to wear. He still felt very odd, don the robes of his enemies, but he knew he would get used to it. As he pulled them on, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He no longer jumped when seeing the stranger staring back at him, but it was a very eerie feeling. Before this, he had only used Polyjuice potion once, to sneak into the Slytherin common room, and that was odd enough. But this was like living as another person. Now he knew what Barty Crouch Jr. had felt while replacing Mad-Eye Moody two years previously. Pretending to be somebody else was harder than it looked, in any case. He had to praise the ex Death Eater on his acting skills. Even Dumbledore was fooled. Although, Harry was sure he was doing fairly well, as Voldemort didn't seem to mistrust him. Snape even complimented him once when they were alone. It was a hidden compliment, but Harry saw it for what it was.

Brushing the hair aside on his forehead, Harry sighed. Aunt Petunia had always made him keep his bangs long to cover his scar, but now that his hair sat their naturally, there was no scar to cover. Typical. That was the story of Harry's life. It was odd, having the same black hair that he had always had, except that it was no longer a mess, sticking up very characteristically every which way. But the eyes were the most unnerving. He felt very naked without his glasses, much as he would without his wand. Without his wand, he was powerless. Generally, without his glasses, he was sightless. The vivid blue that stared back at him out of the mirror was nothing like the bright green he was used to, and he couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the stranger in the mirror. Glancing down at his hand, he glared at the smooth pale skin, no longer marred by the scarred words. 'I must not tell lies'. His scars were as much a part of him as his arm was.

Harry clapped a hand over the invisible scar on his forehead as pain shot through it, Voldemort's rage clearly felt through the unfortunate bond they shared. His vision darkened, black creeping into the sides of his gaze. Gasping for breath, he braced himself against the wall, pressing his palm firmly against his head. It took him a moment to gain his bearings, and he was very glad he had been in the privacy of his rooms when this occurred. It would be difficult to explain if there were other people around. Gritting his teeth, he took a moment to gain his composure before leaving his bedroom, hoping he would find his nemesis in the dining room, and he could find out what caused him so much rage.

Upon entering the dining room, the Boy Who Lived was met with a rather strange scene. It may not have seemed strange to outsiders, or people who had no knowledge of the magical world, but to Harry, it was very odd indeed.

Lord Voldemort sat at the head of the table, with a plate of bacon and eggs, and a cup of coffee in front of him, with the _Daily Prophet_ spread open to his left. Seeing the Dark Lord doing something as normal as eating breakfast was very strange, but the man seemed to be ignoring it at the moment, instead glaring at the offending newspaper on the table, which Harry couldn't see from the angle he was at. Fury still burned through the link they shared, as well as slight confusion, that the teen was sure wasn't his own.

"My Lord?" he inquired, taking his usual seat, to the right of Voldemort. He only sat there for meals, as during Death Eater meetings, he wanted to be as far from the man as possible.

Voldemort raised his gaze, crimson eyes steadily burning into blue. He held the contact for a moment before looking back down to the paper.

"It seems," he began slowly, his voice soft and dangerous, a tone that was all too familiar to Harry, "that my dear Harry Potter, has gone _missing._" Harry blinked at this, surprised, before frowning.

"Missing? Is he not under the supervision of Dumbledore?" he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. That was a habit of his own, but he had decided it was a common enough one not to be linked back to him in the end.

"Knowing Dumbledore, he is behind this whole thing" Voldemort muttered, glaring back down at the paper, which Harry could see now had a picture of him, taken at the Ministry last year. He figured that was the most recent one they had of him. "The meddling fool. I have no doubt that he has some stupid scheme. There is no way Potter just ran off on his own. The only other explanation would be for him to have been kidnapped, but nobody other than I would want to kidnap their precious 'Chosen One'." Voldemort seemed to be thinking as he spoke, his speech rather slow, still with that poison softness, like a blanket over a bed of nails. He seemed amused by the newest nickname the Wizarding world had for Harry though, which irritated him slightly. He hated all the names the world had for him. Why couldn't he just be Harry?

Harry was silent, mulling this over. He had never actually stopped to think about what would happen when people noticed he was gone. He figured Dumbledore would have a way of getting around it, but perhaps Rita Skeeter had gotten wind of his disappearance before the Headmaster had told some strange, ingenious tale of where he was.

"May I read it, my Lord?" he asked after a moment, indicating the paper. Voldemort shoved it towards him before finally starting back on his breakfast, but his eyes remained on Harry as he started to read.

_Disappearance of the Chosen One _

_Disappearances continue to shake the Wizarding World, but nobody would have thought that our very own Harry Potter would be the next to go. _

_Attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one would say that young Harry was as safe as he could be. But even under the careful eye of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the boy has been deemed missing. Sources say that Mr Potter has not in fact been seen in any classes or meals for the last week. There was no evidence of a fight, but with Dark Wizards about, there is no need for a struggle. _

_Some informants believe that Mr Potter ran away from the rising stress he is put under at school, or for more attention, as the boy is known to seek. Others think that this is the work of You-Know-Who. _

_While the latter is more plausible, it is the most frightening. If You-Know-Who did break into Hogwarts, no Witch or Wizard is safe, nor our very own children. But, if Harry Potter is indeed in the hands of the Dark Lord, we fear that the fate of the Wizarding World has been sealed._

_Aurors are already on the lookout for any sign of Mr Potter and we advise everybody to be on high alert. Dumbledore himself has not been interviewed, but we all hope he has some explanation as to where the Boy Who Lived may be. _

Harry stopped reading after that. He was unable to help the scowl that slipped onto his face while he read, until he realized who he was sitting with. He hoped that Voldemort didn't see anything remotely suspicious about this, and he figured it was an okay expression while reading this. What it was really for was the whole content of the article. It even went on! They seemed so damn concerned, after deeming him as a nutter only a year before. And this whole 'Boy Who Lived' and 'Chosen One' crap. He was sick of it. That was the only good thing about where he was. Nobody gave him some stupid special treatment because he was Harry bloody Potter. After thinking for a moment, he decided to speak, though carefully. He didn't want to set off the Dark Lord's anger or something, as he had seen it done many times to other Death Eaters.

"They probably got this information from people who dislike Potter . . ." he started, pushing the paper away, and turning his eyes to Voldemort. "Rita Skeeter did a lot of interviews with people who disliked him a few years ago. And the fact that they have yet to speak to Dumbledore gives a lot away. It's almost definitely another stupid plot of his."

"That's my problem exactly . . . Dumbledore slipped the boy away, ruining all of my carefully built plans" Voldemort hissed, taking the _Daily Prophet _back. "How could Severus allow this? He is very lucky to have that silly job of his" once again, that voice was low and dangerous, promising pain to Snape, if he didn't have a sufficient answer to this. "How could he allow the boy to be missing for a _week, _and not tell me of it!" he hissed, slamming his hands down onto the wooden tabletop, which Harry felt shudder under the assault.

"Knowing Severus, he was waiting until he has his facts straight, and has learned all he could about the situation, so that he does not leave you in the dark, my Lord" Harry said, proposing this idea to attempt to keep Snape out of trouble. Hatred of the man or not, he was the only one Harry had to count on at the moment. He couldn't allow him to be harmed. He didn't wince under the glare he was given by Voldemort, simply blinking. He knew that the Dark Lord was sure he wasn't afraid of him, but he was respectful to the man, at least in show. He knew he had to stand out amongst the simpering Death Eaters who were all afraid of their master, but be respectful and intelligent enough to earn his interest and trust. That is, if Voldemort really trusted anybody.

"Ah, yes . . . as I hear, you are his _dearest_ friend, are you not?" the snake like man asked, leaning back in his throne slightly. Harry was about to answer, but the man was continuing. "Are you sure you weren't sorted into the wrong house? I do believe standing up for your friends is a very Gryffindor trait." Harry could tell by the tone that the Dark Lord was simply mocking, and didn't have any suspicion behind the words, but his stomach still twisted. Regardless, he laughed, shaking his head.

"Perhaps I should ask Dumbledore for a re-sort then, shall I?" he proposed, grinning slightly. It felt very wrong to be joking with his mortal enemy like this, but he knew it was for the best. Voldemort looked rather surprised at his response. It wasn't often he had somebody laugh and banter with him. He felt a flicker of some unwanted emotion, and had the fleeting urge to smile. A fleeting urge that he promptly stomped out.

"Perhaps you should. I'm sure he'd be _delighted_ to know that you've seen the error in your Slytherin ways" he sneered at the thought of the old man, who was so pro-Gryffindor it was sickening. The man was Headmaster, yet he showed such clear favour over his former house, and disdain over its rival.

"Delighted indeed. I'd rather die than become a filthy Gryffindor" Harry scoffed, shaking his head. He never did understand the reason behind the rivalries of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses, but they were ever present, clear as day.

He put it down to how Slytherins were all right gits, and Gryffindors weren't.

Voldemort smirked at the response, quite pleased to hear that. He loved to hear people who shared his opinion clearly, instead of whimpering it out to seem loyal. "If Dumbledore got his way, I'm sure that could be arranged."

Harry laughed at this, running a hand through his abnormally smooth hair. He knew these conversations were good for his mission, opening the Dark Lord up, and seeing who was underneath. These civil conversations, joking lightly and sharing opinions on things were exactly what he needed to pull Tom Riddle out. He just didn't know how long it would take.

"I'd rather die at my own hand than by his" he said truthfully, although the reason wasn't as Voldemort thought. He just couldn't bear the thought of the old man betraying him. "Besides," he said with a grin, "If I were killed, who would keep you entertained?"

"Well well, Severus, you finally decided to grace us with your presence." Voldemort's voice was cold, and that dangerously soft tone Harry knew so well. He really hoped Dumbledore had come up with some genius plan to explain why the _Daily Prophet_ said that he was missing.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but Dumbledore had to explain the whole situation to the students and faculty, so dinner took . . . longer than expected" Snape said, kneeling before the Dark Lord, before rising and taking his seat.

There were only a few Death Eaters present, as Voldemort didn't exactly need everybody to be there to hear this. He assumed it would be in the papers the next morning anyways. Lucius Malfoy was present as he was Voldemort's right-hand man, which didn't surprise Harry in the least. Bellatrix was there as well, much to Harry's annoyance. He would have liked to see as little of her as possible. But she seemed to like to hang around, and fawn over her master as often as possible. Other than Snape, Voldemort, and the disguised teen, the room had two other occupants. Nott, and Avery. Harry unfortunately knew them both. He figured if he ever got out of this, he would have a whole list of names to turn in to the Ministry.

Snape cleared his throat slightly, attracting everybody's undivided attention, all of them very curious as to what happened to the Boy Who Lived. "Dumbledore has decided, that Hogwarts is no longer safe for Harry Potter." The man began, sneering slightly. "The boy has had special treatment in the past, but this is ridiculous. He has been transferred to an undisclosed location, to obtain his education from highly trained witches and wizards, away from the _dangers_ that await him. The Headmaster will not tell anybody where the boy has been moved to, or who is teaching him. He believes that the less people that know, the better."

When the Potions master finished, silence settled into the room. Voldemort pressed his fingers together, staring at the table in thought. Harry could feel his emotions, being this close to him. He was angry, frustrated, and irritated with Dumbledore. He was somewhat pleased with all the information Snape had. And he was determined to find out where Harry was, and set up a new plan to get the boy.

Harry suppressed a shudder. If Voldemort ever found out where he really was, he was dead. There was no chance he would get out of this alive.

It was silent for another long minute before Voldemort looked up, red eyes set. "Very well. You are lucky to avoid punishment for letting the boy slip away, Severus, but another slip, and you won't be so lucky." Casting a threatening glare at the assembled Death Eaters, the Dark Lord rose from his chair and left the room with no more sound than the swish of a cloak.

Harry sat on his bed, facing the man who was perched in an armchair. Not that he would ever admit it, but he was quite happy to have Snape's company.

Glancing at the door, Snape pulled out his wand, pointing it at the door and muttering "_Muffliato._" Harry was rather surprised, as the only time he had seen that spell was in the Prince's old potions book, but he didn't linger on it. "Now, Potter, Professor Dumbledore has decided that I should allow you to contact your little friends" he started, lip curling slightly. "They shall be sent directly through me, so no owls are intercepted, and no suspicions arise. The Headmaster believes it is best for your . . . sanity."

Harry blinked for a moment, rather shocked at that, before a grin broke onto his face. It was the first grin he had used in a while that was this real, and it felt good, to strain the unused muscles. "Seriously, Professor? Thank you! Do you have any letters now?" he asked eagerly, jumping to his feet. If it had been anybody to announce this news to him other than Snape, he would have hugged them. He got to talk to Ron and Hermione again! They could surely help him with his task, and now he wouldn't feel quite so lonely.

"Yes, yes, Potter. I knew you'd be impatient, so I decided it was best to wait until I actually had something for you to tell you about this decision. But do _not_ expect this to be a daily thing. I will _not_ play owl for a bunch of schoolchildren!" Snape snapped, pulling a scroll of parchment out of his robes and holding it out.

Nodding eagerly to show he understood, Harry snatched the letter from his Professor's hand and unrolled it, sitting back down on his bed as his eyes greedily drank in the sight of his friends' familiar handwriting. There were two letters on the same piece of parchment, first in Hermione's neat hand, and then Ron's rather untidy scrawl.

_Harry!_

_Oh my, we miss you so much! Professor Snape says you're all right, but I still want to hear it from you. I do hope you're doing well with your task. I know this will take a long time, but I believe in you, Harry. If anybody can get Tom Riddle out, it's you. People can't help but like you. I'm sure he'll be opening up to you soon enough. I do hope you're keeping up in your studies. Professor Snape said that you have a lot of books in your rooms, and there's a huge library! _

Harry glanced up, shooting a glare at Snape. "Traitor," he muttered before looking back down.

_Nothing really new has been going on here, but Malfoy's been acting really smug recently. Ron thinks he's up to something. I think he's just happy you're gone. Dumbledore finally told all the students your cover story, and I think it's quite brilliant really. Anyways, Ron's going to have a fit if I keep writing, so I'll leave it here for now. You've got all our support here, and we'll try to help you as much as we can! All the best!_

_Love, Hermione_

Smiling, the disguised teen looked down to the next letter, knowing that it probably had much different content.

_Harry,_

_Bloody hell mate, I didn't think we'd miss you this much! It's nothing like being gone over the summer or something. I think we tend to miss you more if you're in a life threatening situation. Like living with You-Know-who. Snape says you're doing fine, but I still don't trust the git. He could be lying, and you could be dead. But anyway, I hope you're making at least some progress. Drag Riddle out kicking and screaming if you have to. I think you just might. He's a right stubborn git, that one. Oh, and I think you're right about what you said a while ago. Malfoy's definitely up to something. He's been walking around like he owns the place! Hermione thinks we're overreacting, but we're probably right. Have you heard anything about that? You get into the Death Eater meetings now, right? That's top secret stuff you're getting there mate. I bet you'll get information even Snape doesn't get! Ah well, slimy git's glaring at me. I think he wants me to just give him the letter. Write back, okay? We're worried about you. _

_Cheers, Ron_

Harry was well aware that he was grinning like an idiot by the time he was finished reading. He had missed his friends terribly, as the best company he had kept in the past week was Snape, which was very unfortunate. Glancing up, Harry couldn't help but grin at his Professor, who raised an eyebrow, looking bored and slightly irritated.

"Thank you, Professor. This . . . means a lot to me" he said, running a hand through his hair, which fell right back into place, very uncharacteristically. "You might not want to wait around for me to write my reply though, sir. It'll probably take a while."

Snape nodded, rising. "Well then, Potter, here's your potion, and I'll see you tomorrow night then." He pulled out a flask of Polyjuice potion, and Harry easily pulled an empty one out of his bag, something that had become quite routine.

"Thank you. Goodnight, Professor" Harry said, smiling slightly as he slipped the new potion where the empty flask had been. He couldn't help but be happy, his spirits considerably raised.

"Goodnight, Potter" Snape muttered, lifting the spell as he left, closing the door behind him. Harry flopped back onto his bed, eyes closed, and a blissful smile on his face. Funny how simply getting letters from his friends made him so happy. It was a wonder he didn't die, the summer before his second year of Hogwarts.

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><p><strong>Well. I have no idea what I had in mind for most of that. I guess just getting information straight and such. Working out little details. Voldemort opens up to Harry a tad. Just a little bit. It's gotta be hard not to. He's Harry Potter! <strong>

**Anyways, next chapter will be more exciting I hope, and probably quite a bit longer. So it'll take me a bit longer to write. Bear with me here guys!**

**Reviews are always nice. . .**

**SM.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well then. Procrastonating really is a problem. Ahem. I wish I had some crazy excuse as to why I havn't put this up before now, buuuuuut I don't. I tend to just go through phases of writing and not. To be honest, barely wrote anything today. I sat down and said to myself 'wow, I should really get the next chapter of that damned story up...', opened the file, read over what I had, added a couple of sentences, and slapped it up here. Heh. A lot of this may seem unimportant, and you may be right, but I'm also trying to just throw bits in here and there about how they are reacting to each other. I hate spending whole chapters going over thoughts and deeper connections and such, so you won't get any of that here. Well anyways; don't own crap, or I really wouldn't be bothering with this. Enjoy!**

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><p>Harry found rather quickly that most Death Eater meetings were rather boring. People reported what they had found out since the last meeting, and it seemed now that most efforts were put into locating Harry Potter. He thanked Merlin mentally that none of the 'leads' that the Death Eaters had found led back to where he was now. That would be a very, very bad thing, despite how comfortable the Dark Lord seemed around him now. At least, as comfortable as he was around any of his Death Eaters, which normally seemed rather comfortable. He seemed to always be at ease however. Even when in battle, from what Harry himself had seen so far.<p>

Trying his best to stay focused, Harry rested his chin on his entwined fingers, elbows resting on the table to prop him up. Currently, an unknown Death Eater, who seemed to be with the Ministry, rambled off all he had learned about plans in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Apparently somebody was trying to get a law passed for anybody to kill a known Death Eater on sight, with no penalties. People weren't too keen on this idea however, and most of Voldemort's followers jeered at the idea, clearly up for the challenge.

As the meeting progressed, Harry found his thoughts straying to the letters he received from his friends. Snape 'played owl' at least once a week, and he had received four conjoined letters from Ron and Hermione, one from Dumbledore, and one from none other than Remus Lupin. The latter had made him extremely happy, as he always was when he heard from his father's old friend. It did however painfully remind him of Sirius, even if the older wizard hadn't brought him up. He sank further into his thoughts as Avery now droned on, and Harry was now braiding his hair idly, going almost cross-eyed as he looked up at the strands of hair directly above his forehead, not even really noticing he was doing it, despite his eyes fixed on the soft black locks. He also failed to notice a certain crimson gaze steadily resting on him.

Braiding his hair was a little habit Harry had taken to doing when he was locked in his cupboard as a child. With nothing to do but sit in the dark with his own imagination, braiding little pieces of his messy hair, then undoing them, was something to just keep him busy. Although he admittedly didn't do it much anymore, avoiding it when he was around people most of the time.

Voldemort himself knew that the meetings could be rather dull, unless somebody happened to be successful, but at the moment, that was very rare. Still, he tended to listen, picking out little details of success that his Death Eaters' less superior minds skipped over. He was rather interested at the moment however, as to why his newest recruit seemed to be ignoring everything. Even halfway down the table, it was clear that the man was not listening. He was almost shocked that somebody had the insolence to ignore his meetings. Even if people were uninterested, they pretended to listen, to keep their Lord happy. Holden Parker did no such thing.

But what shocked the man the most was that he was braiding his hair. He was _braiding_ his _hair._ At a _Death__Eater_ meeting. He really couldn't believe that Holden would just sit there and do something like that. The man really did just keep shocking him.

It was small things like that that kept the Dark Lord's interest, as well as his general company, and ideas. He seemed to have a very strong opinion of things, and Voldemort found it rather intriguing. He didn't back down when their ideas clashed, simply explaining why he felt that way, and listening to his own explanation. Like equals.

Voldemort scoffed and pushed back his thoughts. _Equals_. Nobody was his _equal._ Not even Harry bloody Potter, whom he was supposed to have 'marked as his equal'. He was weary of the boy, yes, but he was in no way his equal. And Parker was even less his equal than Potter. He was his follower. He answered to his beck and call, and he did what the Dark Lord asked.

Eventually, the disguised teen noticed that he was being watched, by none other than the Dark Lord. Combing his fingers through the braid to get rid of it, he dropped his hands. Folding them on the table, he gave a sheepish smile when Voldemort raised a hairless brow. He knew that the snake-like man was holding back a snort of amusement, since he had more dignity than that, but it was clear that he really was amused.

"Now, my faithful servants, we shall speak of the upcoming raid I have planned. I have all the plans ready, but those who are going are only being told what they absolutely need to know. Nothing more, nothing less" Voldemort started, revelling in the way all attention was at once on him. "Lucius, you will be heading the raid. Crabbe, Goyle, you will both be second in command. Be sure not to fail me" he said sharply, and Harry worked hard not to laugh at the irony. Malfoy, with his cronies Crabbe and Goyle to back him up. Keeping a straight face however, he felt a pang of homesickness, thinking about Hogwarts. Anything that really reminded him of the castle made Harry feel homesick, even more so than when he was with the Dursleys. It had steadily gotten worse over the weeks, but he pushed it back as he always did, knowing that he would need to listen now. He hadn't been sent on a raid yet, and as much as he was opposed to the idea of going, it would be a very good thing for him to go, and the way Voldemort spoke, it was only a matter of time.

"Accompanying them will be Avery, Bella, Rodolphus, Rowle, Gibbon, Dolohov, Macnair, Nott, and Parker." His eyes flicked to each in turn, and lingered on Harry when he was done, and the teen was sure he could see the hints of a smirk on his face. He nodded slowly, meeting Voldemort's eyes, rather glad of his Occlumency once again. His mind was in disarray now. Nobody he trusted was going to be there. It was like an ensemble of people he hated. He didn't know how he was going to get through this.

"I will give you details of your duties separately at a later date. This raid will take place on November twenty third. Be prepared" the Dark Lord said firmly, though his words suggested the end of the meeting. Nobody moved for a moment, all unsure if that was really what he meant, and none wanting to try his patience, or piss him off. Bellatrix was the first to rise, bowing low to her Lord, bidding him goodnight before leaving the room. When Voldemort simply nodded to her, and she wasn't cursed, the other assembled Death Eaters rose, murmuring their goodnights before leaving the room. Harry stayed behind however, as he normally did, to chat with the Dark Lord about the meetings.

As everybody left the room with poorly concealed haste, Harry did however move down the table, taking a seat closer to Voldemort to more easily converse with the man.

"So," the Dark Lord started, once they were alone, "Your hair is more important than my meetings?" His tone was light, but rather sarcastic, and Harry found himself grinning slightly despite himself. It really was easier to do now that he was more confident he wasn't going to be found out.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. Avery's report wasn't exactly . . . enthralling. My apologies" he said with a slight grin and a duck of his head. He found that being around so many 'respectable' Pure-bloods really helped him learn to speak a bit more formally than he normally did, as most of them did. It helped his disguise quite a bit, and he appreciated the unknowing help.

Voldemort sighed slightly and shook his head, apparently amused. "As much as I hate to admit such things, I cannot blame you. Avery's report tonight _was_ rather dry. I didn't exactly listen to much of it myself."

Harry was rather surprised he had admitted something like that, but he didn't complain. "I don't understand why his report was so long if he didn't manage to recruit anybody anyways" the disguised teen sighed, shaking his head.

"He was trying to seem important. Disappointing me is very clearly a dreadful idea"

"Yet people seem to do it _so__often_. I think you should lower your standards, my Lord. Your Death Eaters just can't handle the stress" Harry said in a serious voice, nodding. Seeing the once again slightly raised hairless brow, Harry gave a slight smirk. He knew it was almost suicidal to almost tease the Dark Lord like this, but if he wanted to stick out amongst the blubbering idiots, he was going to have to, and he was getting rather good at judging the man's reactions, even through his careful mask. He knew when to stop.

The unfortunate bond they held helped with this most often, working better in close contact, so that he could feel more than the man's immense rage or glee now. Amusement was felt in the back of his head, along with a slight, not altogether unpleasant, tingling in his scar.

"Perhaps I should. But then again, I do not wish my faithful Death Eaters to get _too_low opinions of themselves . . . The last thing I need is to have all of them turning into angst-ridden little teenagers" Voldemort sneered, idly spinning his wand through his long, pale fingers. Sometimes, he was sure Holden was one of his most mature Death Eaters, which was rather sad, as he was one of the youngest. He managed to remain dignified, while also submitting to him at all the right times. He really was a true Slytherin. More so than most of the idiots who previously resided in that house. He observed the man's easy smirk, the amusement very clear in those ice blue eyes, though slightly obscured by the previously braided hair slipping in front of them. It was quickly pushed back by a lightly tanned hand however, and the Dark Lord continued his silent study, cold crimson eyes roving down over lips that were now moving, and it took him a moment to realize he had missed what Holden said.

Not wanting to seem undignified, or caught not listening, he smirked slightly as his only response, figuring it was just some more banter about how ridiculous most of his Death Eaters were.

Knowing that Voldemort hadn't been listening, the Boy Who Lived changed the subject, instead bringing up something that was more pressing on his mind than getting close to the Dark Lord.

"So, my Lord, what exactly are my instructions for the upcoming raid?" he asked, running a hand through his slightly wavy black hair. Voldemort met his gaze steadily, no real emotion showing as he started to explain.

"Mostly just doing as Lucius says, honestly. Though your Occlumency is flawless, I would rather that less people know the whole plan. I want you going on this raid to mostly get the feel for the things we do, and learn how well you can handle these situations. You shall all be breaking and entering, and capturing a man, bringing him to me. He will put up a fight, and there will be others there to help him, which is why I am sending so many of you. I believe in, for lack of a better term, the 'Buddy-system', so you shall be working in pairs, to watch each others' backs. You are to be paired with Macnair." With the conclusion, Harry tried his best to keep a blank mask, simply nodding, forcing his face into a thoughtful expression, as if mulling it over.

Really though, he would just rather be paired with somebody other than Macnair. The man tortured animals! He was to be Buckbeak's executioner! He didn't know how he was supposed to work alongside such a man.

"I understand, my Lord" he said after a moment, holding the crimson gaze and giving a steady nod.

He could only hope he could continue to act properly in the midst of a fight.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, swish. Thump, thump, thump, thump, swish.

Harry paced back and forth across his bedroom floor, hands running restlessly through his black hair, which was currently almost as mussed as it was when he wasn't using Polyjuice potion, cloak sweeping about his ankles at every turn.

"I just- I don't know what to do! This whole thing could go so horribly wrong! Snape, what do I do!" the teen cried, pausing in his pacing, spinning on his heel to face the man desperately. Snape found the look a bit odd on the features he was so used to seeing so confident now, as Potter's alias was supposed to be very self-confident. It as very clear on those features that the boy was very nearly having a panic attack, which would be highly inconvenient at the present time. "I mean, I've gone through the Triwizard Tournament, killed a Basilisk, fought off a pile of Dementors, and fought off a bunch of Death Eaters, but I've never fought _with_ them! I don't know any Dark spells or curses, other than the Unforgivables! And I don't want to kill anybody else. . ." his voice, which had risen steadily, fell to a whisper at his last sentence.

Snape held back a sigh; reminding himself how adamant Dumbledore was about him keeping his patience with the boy. If there was any time he needed to remind himself that this boy wasn't James Potter, it was now. It also helped that the only likeliness he had to the deceased man was that he had black hair.

"You do not need Dark magic to go on a raid. It may be helpful to toss in a curse here or there, to keep up appearances, but you will be fine with most of the spells you and your little _DA_ learned" he explained, unable to help but sneer at the name Potter and his friends had given their little Defence club. He couldn't have the boy thinking he was warming up to him.

Harry sighed, dropping heavily to sit on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair yet again. Reaching down to the blankets with his other hand, he grasped the soft fabric between his fingers, clenching and unclenching his hand.

"Curses like what?" the Polyjuiced teen looked back up to the sallow-faced man, worry clear in his eyes, along with what was very clearly a grudging desperation. Harry hated that he had come to rely on the Potions master so much, and that he was so happy with his company. He hated to admit it, but both Snape and Voldemort could make very good company, when they weren't both trying to make his life hell.

The older man rummaged in his cloak for a moment, before pulling out a scroll of parchment, holding it out to the distressed teenager. "From Professor Dumbledore" he said simply, and Harry took it quickly, fingers closing around it as quickly as if it were the snitch, and trying to get away from him. Unravelling the parchment, he smiled at the familiar thin, slanted script that he knew so well. On it was a short list of curses, and a short description of what they did, and how to cast them. Harry had heard of them before, and he knew they were borderline Dark curses. "Practice these outside until you have gotten used to them. Just find a secluded spot in the forest. Trees will make fine targets, even if it is not as realistic. Now, I have a meeting with the Dark Lord."

Snape got to his feet quickly, face void of all emotion, though the mask seemed almost forced. He swept towards the door with all the elegance of the giant bat he was, but he hesitated for a moment.

"You'll be fine, Potter" his voice was quiet, and he did not turn around, but Harry was still smiling slightly as the man lifted the privacy wards and fled the room, footsteps echoing down the torch lit hallway.

Harry flopped back onto his bed, feet still pressed firmly against the floor, but his back stretched across the large bed. He stared up at the surprisingly clean ceiling, contemplating. Snape said it wouldn't be too bad, and he had half a mind to believe the man. Really, it couldn't be much different from the fight he had gotten into at the Ministry, except possibly even easier, because he didn't have to worry about his friends, and he didn't have to worry about any Dark curses flying his way. The Order refused to use such spells.

"This had better bloody go well" he muttered, stuffing the parchment inside his robes and rolling over, pulling his legs onto the bed and pressing his face into the blankets, mildly upset at how the smell of this bed, which wasn't really his own, comforted him.

Drawing his thick black cloak tighter about his body, Harry stood in line with the eleven other Death Eaters who would be accompanying him tonight. The breath of those gathered fogged the air, fogging under the masks of the Death Eaters, and from between the thin lips of the Dark Lord, the only one whose face was exposed. Voldemort paced up and down the line of his assembled troops, examining them as he did so. The only two masked figures really distinguishable were Bellatrix, from the dark hair tumbling from under her hood, and the pale blonde from Lucius's. The one other figure the Dark Lord knew for sure was the one of Holden Parker, which he only knew as he had found himself examining the man rather often recently. He fascinated him.

Parker stood with his back straight, shoulders relaxed, chin up, looking just as arrogant and comfortable as the others there in the chill courtyard, under the inky sky. All twelve figures remained still and unflinching as their Lord prowled to and fro before them, his stride brimming with confidence and simple grace, which strangely fit his otherwise monstrous appearance.

"You all know your parts" he said finally, coming to a halt in the centre of the line, in front of Lucius, "And I expect no less than perfection. Should any of you fail me, you will be severely punished. Lord Voldemort does not tolerate failure. I expect you back by dawn. Now off with you!" He snapped the last part, and twelve figured turned on the spot, identical black robes swirling about their ankles in the dark night, cracks echoing around the courtyard. And then the Dark Lord was alone.

Harry grimaced at the familiar feeling of being shoved through a tight rubber tube, concentrating hard on his destination. It was only a moment before he was standing on a dark, winding lane, in front of a small copse of trees. It didn't take Harry long to figure out that the house had the Fidelius charm on it.

"Read this," came Lucius Malfoy's drawling voice, and he held out a pristine piece of parchment, and the teen couldn't help but wonder how it had stayed that way after being in his pocket. Bellatrix, who was closest, grabbed the parchment, eyes quickly scanning over the words a few times as she committed it to memory. It was gradually passed between all of them, and when Harry took it, he couldn't help but wonder who the secret keeper was that had given up his or her friend to Voldemort. His thoughts almost instantly reverted to Wormtail, and he clenched his fist around his wand in his robe pocket, rage flaring up inside of him, as it always did when he so much as thought of the rat like man. Passing the paper on with a bitten back sigh, he looked up to see that a small stone house now stood, behind the trees, looking very deserted.

Once Lucius had the parchment back in his pocket, he started barking orders.

"Bella, Rodolphus, around back. Gibbon, Dolohov, around the left side, and Macnair, Parker, to the right. Disillusion yourselves, and await my signal. Crabbe and Goyle, stay here. Avery, Rowle, Nott, help me with taking down the rest of the wards. And keep silent, all of you!"

Harry blinked for a moment, not at all surprised how easily the man commanded people. He was Voldemort's right-hand man, and he was, after all, a Malfoy. Biting back a sigh, he cast the disillusionment charm on himself, feeling the odd sensation of what felt like an egg cracking over top of his head. Giving a slight shudder, he headed off to the right of the building, following the quiet sound of Macnair's footsteps.

The eight Death Eaters stood a silent vigil in the frosty night as their comrades worked on the wards, the only sign that any of them were there a slight shuffling sound every once and a while, as the men (and woman) grew restless. Shifting his mask uncomfortably, Harry bit his lip. He felt very unsettled, surrounded by his enemy, wearing their robes, blending in. Somehow, being in meetings with these people was so much easier, although there were so many more people around. As well as the Dark Lord himself. He figured it was that he had so much on his shoulders at this one time. Hissing a curse in Parseltongue, Harry straightened up, tilting his chin and taking a deep breath. He was ready for this. Just in time, it seemed.

A whispered word from a masked blonde, and a giant skull hung in the air, serpent as a tongue, glittering like a grotesque constellation.

All hell broke loose.

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><p><strong>Definitely couldn't help but end here. I'm just awesome like that. Wanna make some bets on how soon I'll update? I personally am aiming for less than a month, but we'll see. Feedback is always nice. Creative criticism too. :]<strong>

**SM.**


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